Going For Broke
by Andrew Fisher15
Summary: An alternate story where Chris went on by himself to find Jill. More story-focused Jill/Chris shipping, less gore and action.
1. Chapter 1

This is a short ficlet (It will probably only be four or five chapters long) that explores one possibility. What if Sheva hadn't followed Chris after they found the second massacred BSAA team? What if he had decided to go it alone and look for Jill without any help? Written more to focus on the story than the action. (I'm sure everyone who played RE5 blew away more than enough bad guys to compensate.) Enjoy, read and please review!

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_Do you know what it's like to be a lover? Half of a whole?—_"Inception"

"Chris, look around. We should both get the hell out of here!" Sheva insists, waving a hand at the dead monstrosity, at the mutilated corpses of our fellow soldiers. I can't blame her. I would want to get out too, if I was her.

"I'm not here just for the mission." I tell her.

"What are you talking about?" Sheva demands, getting frustrated. She probably thinks I'm being irrational.

"A while ago, I received information that my old partner, Jill, is still alive." I say, as calmly as I can. "I had myself transferred to this mission because of that tip. Your pal Josh confirmed it for me." I take my iphone, select a photo, then hold it up for her to see.

"The woman in the data file…" Sheva's getting more upset by the moment. "Are you even sure it's the same person?" Something in me snaps, and I stop caring what Sheva thinks.

"We were partners." I tell her flatly, not a hint of doubt in my voice. "I'm sure." With that, I turn my back and walk away. I don't need Sheva for this. Nor do I want her along, really.

"You can't do this!" Sheva hollers. "You're going to get yourself killed!"

"Then so be it." I mutter, heading towards the dock. It isn't a choice, not for me. If Jill is out there, I have to find her. Sheva's right about one thing, though. Death is a very real possibility—but it doesn't matter.

Jill already died once for me. I find swamp boat and climb aboard, pausing to glance behind me.

No one is there. I'm on my own again, the same way it's always been since that night.

"I'll find you." I vow, looking at the photo again. "I'm coming, partner. Just hold on a little longer."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I'll say this one more time. **Where**. **Is**. **Jill**?" I demand. Excella shrugs as if I don't matter. As if she's bulletproof, and the assault rifle I have pointed at her face is harmless.

"Jill? Maybe I'll tell you, maybe I won't." She taunts, arrogantly. For a second, I contemplate thinking up a witty comeback or some insult, but I'm just too tired for this and my patience is at its end.

I squeeze the trigger of my rifle and she screams when a .223 round tears into her upper arm, ripping flesh away.

"Well, if isn't the police." A mocking voice calls out. I look up at the balcony, up on the second floor.

Wesker strolls down the steps on one side of the winding steps, and their costumed helper walks down the other.

"So you are alive…" I aim the Sig 556 at him. "Sent any coworkers to their deaths today?" Wesker laughs. Excella clutches her arm and runs off. I let her go.

"Isn't this one big family reunion… I would think you'd be _happier_ to see us." Wesker smirks, like I've done something incredibly stupid.

"Us…?" I hesitate, something awful dawning on me as he stands next to his robed friend. He waits a beat, then gently tugs the hood back and removes the bird-mask.

Jill. My heart almost stops, then resumes at five times the normal pace. Her name forms on my lips, but I can't speak.

"Death isn't very popular these days." Wesker remarks. "So many of us are passing on it, lately."

"Jill." I finally say her name. She doesn't respond, doesn't show any sign of even hearing me. The rifle wavers in my hands, the barrel lowers. "Jill! It's me, Chris!"

Wesker inclines his hand, and Jill suddenly throws the robe aside and launches herself at me, landing a solid kick in the center of my chest before neatly disarming me. Her hand lands on my throat and starts squeezing, but I finally react. I break her hold, grab her arm and spin around, throwing her a few feet off. She staggers, but doesn't fall. I snatch the assault rifle off the floor and take several steps back, trying to make sense of the situation.

She looks different. Her hair is blond and long, tied in a ponytail. The tan she got vacationing with me in Florida is also gone, and her skin is incredibly pale. Instead of normal clothes, she's wearing some sort of skin-tight battle suit. Her face is angry, and she still doesn't speak.

Some part of my mind is still insisting that she would never help him. Not willingly.

"Seven minutes." Wesker comment regretfully, flexing his hands as if he's about to go to the gym. "Seven minutes is all I have to play with you."


	2. Chapter 2

"Fight me yourself, Wesker." I challenge him boldly. It would still be pointless—Jill and I combined had lost against him. There was no chance I'd beat him on my own. Wesker smirks.

"But what would be the fun in that?" He taunts. "A disgruntled employee fighting his former employer. But a deadly lovers' quarrel… so much more interesting." I take several rapid shots at him, but he dodges the rifle bullets as easily as if they're going three inches a minute, not twenty-three thousand feet per second. Jill draws two submachine guns from thigh holsters, and I dive into cover a moment before she opens fire. I won't survive two minutes, slugging it out with both of them in the open, so I try to figure something out. There's an open doorway a few yards from me, hopefully leading to an exit. I toss a flash grenade down in front of them, then run for it. The door leads to a stairway, which leads to a small maze of side hallways and corridors.

They pursue me, but I stay quiet. Between Wesker's constant taunts and the distinct clomp of Jill's boots, I manage to avoid them. Twice, I get the jump on Wesker and put several bullets into him before he can react. He totters and almost falls, but within a few seconds he's recovered and I have to run away. I'm about to jump out and shoot him in the back again when he glances at his watch and simply darts off, out of the maze and into the main room. I follow at a safe distance as he trots up the stairs, pausing to answer a phone call.

"Yes. I see. I'll be there shortly." He clicks the phone off, now walking casually towards an exit. Jill is nowhere to be seen. I haven't run into her for at least a few minutes. Wesker pauses at the top of the stairs, turns.

"Play time is over. How very fortunate for you." He tells me icily, looking straight at me. "Fortunately, I don't need your _partner_ for my work. She can keep you company for now." I hear footfalls behind me and turn around—just in time to get kicked in the face. I stumble and bring my arms up to block her attack, only for her to sweep kick me in the leg. I fall, and she seizes the opportunity to put me in an arm lock, twisting my arm and disarming me. She's stronger than I ever remember her, and I can't hold back a moan as joints threaten to dislocate.

"Jill, snap out of it!" She twists my arm in response. "C'mon, pull yourself together!"

"Nice move, Chris." Wesker chuckles as if I'm genuinely funny. "I'll leave you two to… catch up."

"Jill Valentine!" I shout her name. "Wake up! Don't you recognize me? It's Chris!" The grip on my arm weakens a little.

"Chris…" Jill mutters, as if dazed. Her eyes focus and she seems to just now realize what's happening. "Chris!" She releases my arm and takes a few steps back. With visible effort, she yanks the collar of her battle suit down several inches, revealing a glowing read device, like a mechanical spider, embedded in her chest. Relief and horror wash over me. Jill's not working with him—but what the hell did he do to her?

"Fascinating." Wesker observes, and I remember that he's a scientist as well as a murderer. "Still resisting at this advanced stage. Commendable. But **futile**." Jill looks at him, horrified, and holds her hands out, begging for mercy. He removes a small remote from his belt and twists the dial, making her scream and double over. Wesker glances at me briefly. "No more times for games, Chris. I've got work to do." He walks into the elevator. I charge him, but the doors slide shut and he vanishes.

Behind me, Jill's head snaps up, and she crouches, hissing. The red thing on her chest—Jill obviously wanted it off. I don't know exactly what it is, but it's not hard to guess that it's how Wesker is controlling her.

"Alright…" I tell her, ignoring the hissing and snarling. "I'll take it off." I approach, and she neatly back flipped, falling ten feet to the floor below and landing with ease. I almost step on my handgun before picking up. Shooting the device seems like a good idea before I realize how idiotic it would be. A bullet could easily be deflected off it and into her, or simply tear through the device and into her heart. I have to do this the hard way.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

She breaks free of the control and drops the weapons, crying out and grabbing the sides of her head. I hesitate for a moment, then body slam her and take her to the ground. She loses control and snaps back into killer mode, but now she's disarmed and pinned under someone over twice her weight. She lands several thrashing blows, but I grab at the device and manage to pry one side up and slip my fingers under it to get a better grip. I feel… plastic tubing? Jill thrashes when I touch it and almost throws me off. I overcome the inhibition not to hurt her and firmly strike her in the temple. She falls back, stunned. _Knife. _I yank a folding knife out of my belt and carefully slip the blade under the device. It slices through the surgical tubing and I easily rip the device off with my other hand, leaving a circle of puncture wounds and protruding surgical tubes that look like they lead to her heart. I grimace at the sight, knowing I'll have to get her to a hospital as soon as possible. Jill thrashes again, but weakly. I stand up, kicking the two submachine guns away in case she's still not in her right mind. She staggers a few feet, clutching at her chest, then collapses. I rush forward, alarmed, and check her pulse.

It's strong. She's also breathing normally.

"Jill!" I shake her arm. She doesn't stir. Being out in the middle of the throne room doesn't seem safe, so I pick her up and carry her down a side hallway, taking us out of sight. It would be a long hike back to civilization, and I didn't think we'd make it safely if I was carrying her… I barely made it on my own. We enter a small room with a few pots and a strange crypt which creeps me out, but it seems safe enough. I kick aside the pots and look around to make sure there aren't any snakes or spiders, then set her down against the wall. She's heavier than I remember, but it's been years since I held her.

"What happened to you?" I whisper, glancing at the ugly wound on her chest. My first-aid kit still has some bandages and disinfectant, so I clean the gashes as best as I can, being careful not to let anything get into the tubing. Once it's clean enough, I rip open a packet of gauze padding and tape it over the wound to try to keep anything from infecting it. Through this, she still doesn't move. I glance at my watch. It's late afternoon.

"Two hours." I tell her, kissing her forehead gently. "If you're not awake in two hours, I'll carry you out of here." I check the area one more time, then sit down next to her. She's unconscious and I'm low on ammo, but I feel a lot better.

Scratch that, I feel like God himself has come down from heaven and patted me on the back. Jill is alive, and I've got her back. Wesker can go rot in another castle for all I care. The search is over, and I don't have to worry about what Wesker will throw at me, or what traps I'm walking into. All I have to do is get her out of here, and I know I can do that.

"We're going to be alright." I promise her quietly. "I'll keep you safe... I'll do it right this time around."

Her steady breathing is comforting and I put my left arm around her shoulders, letting her lean against me instead of the stone wall. My right hand is resting on my 9mm pistol, just in case anything shows up. The clock still ticks on, but for now, we rest.

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I hoped you liked the chapter. Please review, and add me to your alerts.


	3. Chapter 3

_Oh, how I adore you, oh, how I thirst for you, oh, how I need you!—_"Comatose"

Sitting there, waiting, wasn't too hard. Once the adrenaline rush of fighting Wesker again, of finding Jill, wore off, I felt glad for the rest. I almost nodded off several times, but each time I heard some noise, real or maybe only in my mind and I snapped awake, gripping my handgun.

It was almost a full hour before she finally stirred. She blinked several times and her breathing hitched for a moment, as if she couldn't remember where she was. I could feel her muscles tense through my arm.

"Hey." I said quietly. She twisted around, then froze for several moments, staring at me with a look that frightened me. The moment passed and she suddenly wrapped her arms around me, her temple on my shoulder.

"You came for me." She whispered, her voice choking up. I returned the hug fiercely.

"I'll always come for you."

"We can't go back the way we came." I cautioned, checking my weapons. Jill still had the two Skorpion submachine guns that Wesker had apparently given her. "It's crawling with lickers. But I think there's another way to the docks. Assuming you still have the keys to that speedboat." I inserted a fresh magazine in the Sig 556, checked my 9mm handgun. Both were fully loaded, and reasonably clean enough that they probably wouldn't jam.

"No." Jill said. I groaned. That would have been the easiest way out of this hell.

"Maybe I can hotwire it." I proposed. Jill shook her head.

"I mean, no, we're not using it. Wesker was boarding a tanker. We'll need a helicopter to catch up with him in time." She said. "There's a small hanger not too far from here. You can still fly, right?" I stared at her.

"You want to go _after_ him?" I asked incredulously. "You nearly got killed last time we fought him."

"It's only been an hour since he was here. We still have time to stop him." Jill insisted weakly. I threw my hands up in frustration. I knew should've seen this coming.

"We're in no condition to fight him." I snapped. "He almost killed you the last time we met, and both of us were in excellent shape. The only reason he didn't gut me a few hours ago was because I spent my time running away! And he… what he did to you…"

"I know we're not in good condition." Jill pleaded. "But if Wesker succeeds, Uroboros will spread across the globe, and millions will die! We can radio for help, maybe get an airstrike…" The odds weren't good. But Jill didn't care.

Because she's a hero. The hero I never really wanted to be, not after that night at the mansion outside Raccoon. A fighter was good enough after that. Then I lost her at the Spencer Estate… and suddenly nothing mattered very much.

"Jill…" I pulled her closer and gave it a last shot at convincing her that we needed to get out of there, even though I knew it wouldn't change her mind. "Everyone else is **dead**. The support chopper sent in with us was taken out by flying BOW's. Alpha team and delta team were _both_ wiped out. The one agent still alive refused to go on with me. The BSAA gave a full retreat order hours ago." I pause and summarized everything I had just said. "We are on our own. _There is no help coming_."

"We don't need help." Jill told me, managing a smile. "You and me—we've got this, partner."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Almost there." I remarked, moving forward cautiously among the storage crates, my rifle up and ready, glancing back at Jill for the fiftieth time. She was only five steps behind me, but I felt reassured every time I looked back and saw her.

Then **they** jumped down from a ledge, like they had been waiting to ambush us. Probably were, but I didn't think they were that smart. Not that they weren't intimidating. Eight feet tall, a bag over their heads, a giant axe in hand, and enormous hooks through their backs like they had been hanging up at a slaughterhouse.

We didn't hesitate, instantly emptying our weapons into them. My target staggered backwards and turned away, clutching his face. Jill's fell to his knees, gasping and trying to recover. Four seconds later our weapons clicked dry, the barrels smoking. I yanked the assault rifle's magazine out, put it in a pouch for later, and grabbed a fresh one, dimly aware of Jill doing the same with the Skorpion machine pistol she carried.

In unison, both Executioners shook off their wounds and stood.

"Shit!"

"We need to get to high ground!" Jill yanked me back. "I saw a ladder back there, we'll be more maneuverable higher up!"

"You first!" I ordered, squeezing off several more rounds, aiming for their knees. Jill obeyed, for once. I walked backward as rapidly as I could, emptying the new magazine into any part that seemed vulnerable. Feet, knees, face. I missed the simplicity of being a cop and just dealing with humans.

"I'll cover you!" Jill shouted from the top of a storage container. I yanked the pink out of an incendiary grenade and rolled it forward, jumping back a few yards myself to make sure I was at a safe distance. The executioners strolled forward as casually as ever, only to be caught in the explosion. Napalm splattered in a ten foot radius, burning heavily for four or five seconds. Impossible to actually extinguish, napalm would burn itself out. I stood my ground, and sent another dozen rounds into the closer monster, combined with Jill's fire. It finally collapsed. The other advanced, still smoking. Several rounds to the face made it stagger, keeping it safely away from Jill. I dropped the Sig and charged, smacking it with a haymaker powerful enough to break a jaw. We both recoiled. I cringed, holding my hand. It felt like punching a steel block! The thing recovered again and moved forward. I drew my Beretta and shot point blank as rapidly as I could pull the trigger, spurts of blood flying off the thing as 9mm rounds dug into it. The thing reached out with surprising speed and grabbed me by the neck, lifting me clear off the ground. I dropped the pistol and struggled with the iron grip, trying to breath, knock myself loose, refusing to acknowledge that I had lost, that I was about to pass out. It squeezed harder, then threw me to the ground, reaching to heave the axe up—

—only for a familiar figure to roundhouse kick it back a foot or two, before aiming a pistol grip shotgun and neatly removing its head with a one ounce lead slug.

"You were supposed to **follow** me **up** the ladder!" Jill snapped. I blinked a few times, my vision clearing as blood returned. I found my pistol and regained my feet.

"I thought I had under control." I admitted. "Thanks."

"Don't. You. **Ever**. Do that again!" Jill snarled, her face inches from mine. The pure rage in her voice unsettled me briefly. Then I saw a tear drip down the side of her cheek. "I thought you were going to die!"

"Promise." I said, hugging her. She gave a half-hearted attempt to throw my arm off, but gave up and returned it.

"You better." She muttered.


	4. Chapter 4

_ I can see the balance on your face, _

_I can see the miracles I've traced. _

_Symmetry and shadows I can't hide,_

_I just want to be right by your side!"_

—_Say You'll Haunt Me _

"Let's take five." I suggested, looking around. "This place seems fairly secure." The helipad was probably nearby—we were in an old control tower. The level we were on only had one or two doors

"There's no time." Jill shook her head. "We're taking too long as it is!"

"We're. Taking. A breather." I ordered flatly. "Our magazines are empty, we're exhausted." I shook my canteen to verify there was some water left, tossed it to her. She drained the rest while I checked what remained of my first aid kit. The first aid kit I took off the dead team medic, that is.

"Sit down." I said quietly, gesturing to a seat. "You need some cleanup." The wound on her chest from that device was slowly oozing blood and other fluids. Had we been in civilization I would've gotten her to a hospital. For now, this would have to be enough.

"We need to keep moving, Chris." Jill insisted. It was quieter, more of a request, though. I pulled her towards a chair and gently pushed her into it. She complied, and I ripped open a small packet of bandages, some antiseptic. Several frayed ends of medical tubing still protruded from her chest, the remains of what I had not simply ripped out.

"You get better medical training at the BSAA since I've been gone?" Jill asked quietly, watching. I carefully wiped away blood and grime, remembering to swipe away from the wound. I didn't know what to do about the tubing… tried not to think about how it had been put in.

"Basics." I muttered, tossing a soiled bandage away and carefully laying a clean one down across the wound, before taping it down. Enough to keep the wound clean until it could be treated...

"Thanks." She carefully zipped up the top of the combat outfit, covering it. Her light skin and blond hair contrasted harshly with the dark blue skin-suit. I touched the edge curiously. It was fairly stiff.

"Kevlar woven with nylon, nomex, and a few other things." Jill explained, looking at where my hand was. "Bullet, rip, and fire resistant."

"Armor suit. Clever." I remarked, standing.

"Your turn for a cleanup." She said, getting up.

"I'm alright." I said, shaking my head. "I'm better than I've been in years." A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"That might be the sweetest thing a man's ever said to me." She said quietly.

"I mean it." I said firmly, as though she missed that part.

"I know. That's why I love it." Silence fell. Not the sort of silences we had once, this felt stiff and unsure. I found myself fidgeting, tightening the pouches the front of my vest. Double checking my knife, rummaging around for loose rounds to put n the empty magazines…

"So how'd the BSAA rope you into this mission? We were BSAA North America." Jill finally broke the silence.

"They didn't. I volunteered." I checked the action on my handgun one more, then replaced it in my holster, satisfied it wasn't too dirty. "Leon S. Kennedy… he contacted me."

"He knew I was here?" Jill asked curiously. "I didn't think there were any witnesses or proof that I was still breathing."

"Probably." I smiled slightly. "He didn't want to get my hopes up. He just told me that he thought… that there was something personal for me on this mission, that I might find something." I faced her. "Jill, I'm sorry."

"For what?" She sat up a little straighter.

"For this." I gestured around us. "For what happened to you."

"That was my choice, Chris." She said softly. "I knew what I was doing. I did it because I love you." She hugged me as best she could, around the armor and gear.

"I love you too." I said quietly, kissing her slowly, remembering the last time we had, before that tragic night. For the first time in years, I felt alive again. Life had purpose, meaning.

"I know." She smiled, gray eyes locked on mine. "You kept looking for me, alone, in this place. That's not courageous, that's suicidal. Like that someone said, long ago… no greater love hath man than this… that a man would lay down his life for his friend."

"Friend?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. She laughed.

"That's the quote. But we can put 'lover' there instead." She paused, then said simply, "I knew you'd save me again, Chris. I always knew it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You ready, partner?" I asked. For the first time in my life, I was about to steal a helicopter. A famous 'blackhawk' transport chopper, actually, like the ones that had gotten shot down in Somalia. I had no idea how one ended up here in Kijuju, but there it was.

I would've done time in purgatory for it to be a combat chopper. An old Cobra, or maybe an Apache. Anything with rockets. But at least this had door mounted miniguns.

And something like twenty infected Africans guarding it.

"Ready?" Jill had two flash grenades, pins pulled, one in each hand.

"Locked and loaded." I muttered. "Remember, we stick together."

"Always." She affirmed.

And threw one. I was safely turned away, but it lit up the dark landing pad like the sun. For a moment.

I turned out from cover, aimed, and started shooting. Not a desperate cover fire, but aimed single shots, going for heads. They were infected and much stronger than normal people, but a 5.56mm round to the head will kill. I dropped the six infected closest to the chopper with rapid shots, then ducked. Jill had one flash grenade left, and was holding her machine pistol ready.

"We just run, shoot once we get to the 'copter?" Jill confirmed.

"Got that right." I said. She threw the second grenade, and we bolted out of cover, across the landing pad, and to the idle helicopter. The fear that gives men wings… I leapt in, dropping the Sig 556 for her to use, and slid into the pilot's seat. Jill opened fire, not waiting for the enemy to get their sight back.

"It's fueled!" I shouted, moving as quickly as possible. I activated the electrical systems, saw the lights come up on the control panels. "You can use the minigun!"

"Got it!" She called, tossing her Skorpion aside and shifting the minigun into a firing position. I heard a whirl as she 'spooled' it up, getting it ready to fire. "Get us in the air!" I checked hydraulics and tried the engine. I was rewarded with the sound of rotors turning, but it would still take a minute for us to actually take off.

Behind me, the minigun roared to life, sending a stream of tracer rounds into the small control tower, as well as piles of supplies and storage containers near the pad. The rounds were decently powered

"Hostiles with RPG'S!" Jill called.

"No kidding!" I saw one of them through the cockpit windshield. Choppers are fragile things. Well-aimed shots with a large caliber rifle, or custom tungsten shotgun slugs could destroy vital parts. An RPG would turn the chopper into a flaming wrec.

I yanked the control stick, and the craft lurched into the air. I heard the blast of an RPG being fired, then a burst from the minigun, and an explosion. A wave of heat swept my face, but no alarms went off inside the chopper.

"Wow." Jill remarked, staring as the cloud of smoke left from the RPG she had blown away. "I didn't know that was actually possible."


End file.
